


Arresting Louise

by dsa_archivist



Category: due South
Genre: F/M, Gen, Humor, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-05-10
Updated: 1999-05-10
Packaged: 2018-11-11 04:41:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11141214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsa_archivist/pseuds/dsa_archivist
Summary: Point of view: State Attorney Louise St. Laurent.  As Ray Vecchio once suggested, Louise apparently does like hancuffs, and Ray is late for their date. Oh dear!  ORIGINALLY archived July 28, 1996.





	Arresting Louise

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).

Arresting Louise

Okay, now that that's out of the way, I'd like to jump in without a lifejacket and submit my first story to the list. The most important thing about this story is to remember that it is told from Chicago State's Attorney Louise St. Laurent's point of view. 

AUTHOR'S DISCLAIMER: 

The situation is entirely of my own making, however, the characters have been borrowed momentarily from Alliance at no monetary gain to the author and will be returned intact and unharmed. This story is rated PG-13 for language and adult situations. 

# ARRESTING LOUISE

by Stephany Smith 

"VECCHIOOOOOOO!" I shout, the echoes collide with the walls and bounce around the room. 

"Where the hell are you?" I demand out loud, pacing back and forth across the room. My voice begins to rise with my temper. "I've been waiting here an hour, doing nothing, and for what? A roll in the sheets with a thinning Detective who's got a bad attitude! I must be a moron! Well, Mr. Hot-Shot Detective, that's it! I'm outta here!" 

I snatch my purse from the nightstand next to the heart-shaped water- bed and head for the door. Halfway there, I stop dead as I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. What on earth am I doing? I can't go out in public dressed like this. I start to laugh, imagining the look on the doorman's face as I stalk angrily past him wearing a black leather camisole, fishnet stockings and spike heeled shoes. 

Suddenly, the door bursts open and Vecchio rushes in. "I'm sorry I'm late, Louise. But you know how that damned Fraser is. Once he sets his mind on...something..." His voice trails off in mid-sentence and he stands there staring at me in disbelief. "I, uh...huh!" 

God, I would give anything to have a camera at this moment to freeze the bulging eyes, the slack jaw, the way his hands are hanging limply at his sides. I stifle the impulse to burst out laughing. 

Determined not to let him see my amusement, I rail at him, "Well, it's about time, Vecchio! Oh, and close the door...unless you prefer the entire state of Illinois see my state of undress." 

He lets out the breath he has been holding and shakes his head slightly. "Oh, yeah...the door...right." 

Stuttering and stammering, he turns to close the door and I hear the lock click into place. For a moment, he stands there in silence with his back to me, head down, one hand curled around the doorknob. 

Quickly, I cross the room and slide my arms around him. Flattening my hands against his chest, I pull myself tightly against his back and hook my right leg around his. I rest my chin on his left shoulder and he leans his head back, twisting it around to look at me. I nuzzle his cheek with my nose and then gently nip his earlobe. I can feel his body shudder as I dip my tongue into his ear. 

He grasps my hands, pulls them away and disentangles himself from my embrace. A sly grin crosses his face as he turns around. "You do realize there are laws against molesting a police officer?" he asks, shrugging out of his camel-coloured Armani overcoat. He tosses the coat over the back of a chair. 

"There are?" I ask, innocently. 

"Yes, ma'am. And I'm afraid I'm going to have to...arrest you," he loosens his tie, pulls it off and tosses it on top of the coat. 

"You mean, like, with handcuffs and all that?" 

"With handcuffs and...all that..." he grins. "Oh, and I'll have to read you your rights." 

"By my rights, you mean, I have the right to remain silent?" I reach for the buttons on his shirt. 

"I was thinking more along the lines of you have the right to make as much noise as you like." He pushes my hands away and grabbing his shirt, gives it a hard yank. Buttons fly everywhere. The shirt ends up puddled in the floor around his feet. 

"But the other guests, won't they hear us and call the cops on us for disturbing the peace?" I lightly trace figure-8's on his chest with my fingertips. 

"Yeah, maybe. But I'm a cop. What are they gonna do? Arrest me?" He sits down on the edge of the bed and unties his shoes. 

"Fraser will." 

"Fraser, schmaser. When I left, he was threatening to send Dief back to Runamukluk for eating Milk Duds again." One shoe flies across the room and smacks into the wall. 

"I believe that's Tuktoyaktuk." I correct him. 

"Tuktoyaktuk, Runamukluk, who cares? You know, you're starting to sound an awful lot like him." The other shoe drops to the floor and is kicked under the bed. 

"Oh! Oh, dear..." I mock him gently. 

"Just so long as you don't start with the Even Steven crap," he says, yanking off his socks. "You know how much that annoys me." 

"I wouldn't dream of it...it's juvenile!" 

"Well, good. Now come over here and let me show you something, Ms. State's Attorney." He grabs my hand and pulls me down into his lap, facing him. 

"Ooooooh, Ray!" I gasp breathlessly. "Now I know what you're really referring to when you say that sometimes things come up between men and women." I unbuckle his belt, sliding it from the loops and toss it over my shoulder. 

"Yeah, feelings...and you feel pretty damn good," he grins wickedly and buries his face in my chest as I reach out to turn off the bedside lamp. 

THE END 

There you have it, folks. <waves to Judy for giving me the okay to post> I hope you enjoyed it. Until next time... 
    
    
    Stephany
    sasmith@mail.pcsonline.com		Otter on irc
    sasmith@surfer.pcsonline.com
    

"You made her believe that you're a mud eater!"--OFCC, DStP 

* * *


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